


Queen of War

by Samohaya



Category: Mahou Shoujo Madoka Magika | Puella Magi Madoka Magica
Genre: Tuning down the grimdark, War is a team effort, bureaucratic Homuhomu, military nerd blurb, what an embarassment
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-26
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-18 19:14:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28997313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Samohaya/pseuds/Samohaya
Summary: "We are not Incubators, Akemi Homura. We are not those things." Or, Akemi Homura equips herself to beat Walpurgisnacht, perhaps find a job in between, and at last, start living.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 6





	1. Coming from Afar/自遠方來

**Author's Note:**

> Author's note: PMMM and its characters are intellectual properties of SHAFT, and the cursed author by the name of Urobuchi Gen.

Watching as the ration tins heat up, she knows she's trapped, and this trap, bound to another trap, which led to yet another trap, would just ensnare her until everything dissociates into nothing in the end.

Wake up. That's the first mistake. Transform. Mistake two. Flub her meeting with Madoka because her heart fusses up her script, which should have been all too easy to read out loud from repetition. Mistake three. The list of mistakes keeps going on, and while Grief Seeds physically sustain her, Akemi Homura knew that she was nearing another limit.

Homura made sure to assess herself, her opponents, as well as any other potential actors for their abilities and limits. Magical Girls were meant to be better than humans, physically speaking. Like an enhanced version of the Human species, MGs were more physically resilient, flexible and strong as well as mentally sharp against what would be considered as supernatural opponents, or essentially, Witches.

But that didn't mean Magical Girls were any less human, in spite of timeline after timeline of Sayaka's death throes. If anything, the heightened mental fluctuation, as well as the lack of psychological conditioning on part of MGs led to a few things: Mismatched wishes (not that they should have made their wishes, thought Akemi bitterly, if they didn't want to become her fuel cells.), vulnerability to psychological distress and therefore critical and very often, fatal breakdowns during battle or normal situations, and of course, the nigh-weakness of MGs to fall into anarchy against each other. Mami's flintlock, Sayaka's sabre, or even Homura's own pistol- the untrained, unconditioned mind can only wield so much power before it starts abusing it, and too often, leading to its own demise.

(That's why you don't smuggle guns for rich bored kids or Yakuzas- the slightest disagreement ends in collective bloodshed, and Walpurgisnacht would just become more powerful from all the negativity and deaths. But then again, Homura supposed with a humourless grin, where would she get her arms? She opened the final tin with finesse, and began her dinner yet again alone.)

Akemi Homura knew them all too well; hundreds of time loops left scars, and scars proved experiences. But the scars were beginning to accumulate, and like glass, strong but brittle, her mind can only sustain so many weak points before it shatters, letting Walpurgisnacht reign free upon Earth, and more importantly, failing Madoka, her Madoka of all people. The Madoka that became concerned over her pale thinness. The _Madoka_ whose smile made her heart clench. The _**Madoka**_ that just can't hold it in her skirt and had to go save the _**fucking**_ -

Her appetite was bad enough already, and the thought only reinforced that. Only Madoka's kind words could convince her that she needed to eat, and so unwillingly, she began feeding upon surplus JSDF rations. Chicken and vegetables, tuna, rice and radish, all slightly hot and generally tasteless. Everything seemed tasteless nowadays. When is "nowadays", anyway?

Fighting would break her; yet she would break if she chose not to fight. She wished for it, and in the depths of sorrow and pain, her wish for Madoka was often the final trench. Sometimes she would scream in her own apartment, where in silence broken pottery and glass, thrown in anger and frustration would witness how her love stung; sometimes empty glances in the mirror, eyes long dull and emotionless reminded Homura of how close she was constantly at the edge of caving in.

It was irreparable; it was in desperate need of repair. Shooting herself with the Type 89 only ended in a jammed rifle, four empty magazines and exactly 121 wounds all over her body. Shooting every other single Witch out of existence only ends in a destroyed city, contracted or dead Madoka and yet another victorious Walpurgisnacht.

Akemi tried to make plans, to rectify mistake after mistake. The plans always vary, but in the end they're always the same. One month of spacetime continuum offered astronomical amounts of variables, but Homura knew half of them by heart already, and she was convinced, after two specific time loops, that the direction from which a few milligrams of dust motes were blown would not significantly alter the outcome of events.

She had become desperate. Hoping against hope was the last resort, yet in the hopeless scheme of things, it offered hope, however slim its portions were. Her access of weapons was meagre, and countless tactics, from assault to infiltration, between wolfpack and single had failed.

And then, after scaring Madoka further from herself for having executed another cute, slanderous, fluffy and absolutely deplorable-beyond-words Qyuubey, Akemi Homura was taken away in the middle of nibbling down her JSDF type 1 ration in her own apartment.

* * *

Homura knew this had to be a Magical Girl job, because scenes do not change so suddenly except for teleportation, and her magic was suppressed by some pressure on her left arm.

Slight dampness and cold. An underground interrogation room, bare concrete, but nicely lighted and fitted judging by the furniture quality, however bland they may be. But Homura cared only for time, and time, her _control_ of time, did not work somehow. In fact, she was capable of nothing except hearing and looking dead forward into a shadow of a figure, at a polarised piece of glass.

" _Xiao Han_ , I think we went over this more than once. She is our guest, and we intend to befriend her." An argument amongst kidnappers? Really? Were it not for her situation, she would have silently enjoyed this palette of black humour.

 _"Ke shi_ -"

"I'll handle it from here, but you did your part... acceptably. Get some rest."

Then, the pressure on her left arm released, and she could move freely again- Backup OTs-21 out, Weaver Stance, left right centre, aim for weak points-

"We only want to talk with you, Miss Akemi." Male voice. Whoever it was had the polarised window on its side, obscuring its position whilst highlighting hers.

Good, and bad. Common commercial-grade Plexiglass was usually meant to stop pistol rounds, but her backup pistol was loaded with Tungsten carbide-core ammunition. No problem about penetration. On the other hand, she was without cover. The table was bolted to the ground, and she could not stop time just to erect it as cover, judging by its thinness.

_Not unlike you, really. Why do you think your love would be reciprocated?_ She knew she was another inch closer to breaking down.

"No one in this entire complex wants to hurt you, Akemi Homura. In fact, we want to help."

V, she called the voice, may plead for all they want, but unless she could somehow leverage this "Hsiao Han" as hostage against V, she found no reason to trust them. Especially when they dashed her entire plan against Walpurgisnacht, and saving Madoka. Violently crashing into her supplying time and therefore, dashing her time-sensitive plan was, anything but helpful.

"You want to defeat Walpurgisnacht and expel Incubators from Mitakihara. We want to assist you towards this cause."

It was a tense minute, and however calm he may talk, Zhang was anything but on the inside. His mission, and of course, his organisation's plans relied on him being able to talk the time-traveler over without creating further, unnecessary antagonism.

"Miss, Akemi, you have every right to doubt us. Every MG who we first approach does that." The barrel went down just an inch or two for a moment, and promptly went back up.

"Who are you? Another Incubator?"

"We are those who defy them, Miss Akemi, and I am one of their agents. As a gesture of sincerity, I will put down my defences, and I hope you may hear what I have to say. " This V, Homura surmised, did not go against his words, for the time being. The lights turned on in full force, and the glass shield was smoothly raised up.

"That means stand down, _Xiao Han_." An East Asian man, in his thirties walked up to Homura, clad in a matching dark grey suit. Behind him, a young girl dressed in navy blue secretary wear, at most 14, apprehensively turned back into normal clothing- a tracksuit without the least regard for aesthetics, a specialty of Chinese school uniforms so infamous, even Homura had managed to know by gossip.

"My name is Zhang Weiheng."

Silence. There is nothing to believe, only obstacles to overcome-

"To save Madoka, that is your wish. Put your weapon down, and we will achieve the goal," this Zhang agent figure stressed, "equally and together."

This gained a sneer from the weary young woman. "Information asymmetry and logistical reach worked well for Incubators." A not-so-veiled jab at what appeared to be some secret state, or even extraterritorial entity that might be yet another cruel trickster.

"Understandable." Zhang held a neutral expression. "We'll do this another way." One step, aim for the heart-

Homura felt all her training and defences failed again, in what seemed to be already a failed timeline.

* * *

Homura found herself again at the meeting room, except she was sitting at the meeting table. Seated, Zhang faced her in a formal posture.

"It was my judgement call to try to approach you personally, but our conflict forced me to fall back on conventional procedure, namely, mental projection. I apologise for failing to present our sincerity in our wish to cooperate equally with you."

Shit, even her consciousness was compromised?

"This is a non-invasive procedure, like watching television", as if she could turn away from it and get back to Mitakihara and finally turn everything right and save Madoka-

"but since this is mandatory information, Miss Akemi, even if you'd prefer to think us as your enemy, I suggest you listen for now." Zhang drank slightly from a steaming gaudy, almost archaic white mug at his right. For once, Akemi found him right.

She was still going to shoot him in his face after this, however.

"I am Agent Zhang Weiheng of the East Asian Administration Security Organisation Department 17." Oh goddamn it, as if MGs weren't enough, geopolitics had to come in.

"We have nothing to do with geopolitics, Miss Akemi. Department 17 shields Magical Girls, or MGs, so to speak, against Incubators, until their potential runs out and can lead normal lives again. To be fair, your apathy to regional politics is quite understandable."

Another sip, though this carried some air of self-assurance. That of the boasting drunk. "Typically, MGs can't live long on their own, and hunting alliances shatter quickly. We provide resources, training and assistance to counter this, and therefore, save as many as possible from Incubators' tyranny upon Humanity."

Being "sat" to a chair in her own mind, Homura found these words to strike her core. Her assessments stood concrete, but too many questions flooded her. Flooding Zhang with questions, on the other hand, made her vulnerable, and she had to project whatever shred of power she still had. The tables may be imbalanced, but hell if she would sit this through.

"Whatever questions you may have, Miss Akemi," he handed her a tablet computer, "answers will be shown here once you think of questions. We understand it seems too good for you, and there's too much to take for now. While we have time, your plan to accomplish your wish does not, so I suggest you read quickly."

So Homura started reading.

* * *

If what the document says is to be believed, then a Magical Girl, by the name of Haneda Kaoko from Hokkaido had wished for a group that would help magical girls to fight, win against their curse and live normal lives again. While she disappeared about two years after, her wish had stood the test of time. The combined powers of magic and political convenience meant few questions were asked about Department 17, supposedly one of EAA's joint internal security apparatus in a turbulent world of 2030s. Officially, it was indeed a department belonging to the security wing of EAA, but not important enough for EAA member states to actually scrutinise, which ended up an ideal arrangement for everyone.

Department 17 was divided according to its parameters: MG training, joint support, intelligence, direct intervention, production and regional liaisons. As a hallmark of Haneda's fortunate choice of words when she made her wish, Department 17 will automatically establish background knowledge of every MG when one is detected. Knowing MGs' wishes allowed 17 to help them, and consenting MGs under the governance of 17 were expected to utilise the shadow bureaucracy's resources and training to organise local MGs into a cohesive, mutual-support unit, as well as maintaining essential Department 17 infrastructure in their unit's assigned region.

The fact that Mitakihara did not have a 17 Branch was explained away by its legal status as Japan's Special Administrative Region, as an experiment in East Asian integration. Ironically, EAASO, an umbrella security bureau covering China, the two Koreas, Vietnam, Singapore and Japan, could not directly work in the city owing to legal ratification gaps.

"Playing Gestapo is irrelevant to my goal." She was trapped, bound and most of all, irritated. The only reason why she had not rewound time again was somehow her magic failed to work.

"Irrelevant indeed," quipped Zhang as he motioned her to read on. "because we simply want to finish your plan. Your targets align with ours, and we'll make sure you survive till the day you can retire from being MG."

Screw it. Homura tossed the tablet on the table.

Screw it, screw it, screw it. She might as well treat this as an oddity before everything fucks itself up, and she becomes alone again, rewinding month after month, until…

"Give me the terms and conditions."

* * *

By normal standards, Akemi Homura was a self-made genius of subterfuge, reconnaissance and assault: A one-woman commando. In this case, it meant Akemi Homura knew when someone lied, or gave less information than what constituted as assessable and decision-informing truths. After all, she had way too much practice with Incubators.

It also meant, that Akemi Homura couldn't spot this Agent, at least, was bearing ill-intent, despite his earlier actions.

"The deal is simple: Work as our Mitakihara liaison until you're 18. Throughout our deal, you are expected to support and organize local MGs in accordance to our Department's principles. In return, you and consenting MGs in your liaison will receive whatever aid, training and if necessary, intervention you may request from us, so long it is within reason."

Zhang motioned to the tablet once again, "the details are all included in this tablet, and as a fairly experienced field agent, I recommend you read it over before you approve or reject our proposition."

She was still unconvinced. "All MGs I know can either supply for themselves until they die, or they're already dead."

If Zhang was in the least offended, he did not show it. "But you are still vulnerable without Grief Seeds, and Incubators still scourge your city." He sighed. "Read the details, Miss Akemi. But I am willing to say that we have initial solutions against both problems, and you fit snugly into our offensive against Incubators."

Maybe they really struggled to break the MG Cycle. Combat records, neuro-quantum physical advances… "If you have free tickets for unlimited magic, why me? Why take on Walpurgisnacht?" Some details were still missing. "Why not conscript young girls and have them to wish against anyth-"

Maybe Homura exuded that before; but she found out silent anger was a lot more powerful when she was the target.

"We are not Incubators, Akemi Homura. _We are not those **things**._"

"For Magical Girls and Humanity, we fight against them. We will even war against _anything_." But Zhang was quick to collect himself. "Read over the details in the tablet. You may sign to agree or reject to our terms," he stood from his chair. "I shall see you shortly to collect the tablet. Charge it full before returning it to us."

And Homura woke up, only to find her rations were still warm, a mere three seconds had passed according to her wall-mounted clock, and that a tablet computer with its charging cable had made its way to her desk, branding documents, terms and words that should not exist in a civilian's domicile.


	2. Ch. 2: Knowing is the First Step 不知則殆

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Copyright and Intellectual Property of PMMM premise and its characters belong to SHAFT, and the cursed author by the name of Urobuchi Gen.

_By all accounts, she had seen no soldier; in fact, Homura was pretty sure that none in her mind were remotely similar, save for one._

_Sayaka and Kyouko were instantly out- one was far better off not to be, if her constant sleep during classes and peeps to Kyousuke were indicative of her discipline, while the other was anything but the big tough girl she projected herself to be. Soldiers have discipline, and they do not abuse their power and authority beyond acceptable targets. While Homura loathed to badmouth her, Madoka would not have made the best recruit she had seen either. Sure, she could hold her own decently in terms of knowledge, if one measured by the 2028 East Asian standard junior secondary curriculum; but soldiers are hardly people of such calibre. Soldiers do not display softness, and soldiers certainly do not cuddle toy bunnies in sleep._

_Homura had to stop herself before her daydream about Madoka evolved into something she couldn't control here and now. Better to keep it to something she can internally rant with, whilst digesting the lecture on standard MG squad tactics. With some mental effort to barricade the tide of pink-headed images and scented, soft sensations, she went back._

_Mami? Perhaps. After all, assuming all Magical Girls' abilities stem from their knowledge and their soul, Mami had to know at least some historical European technology and tactics to field her abilities well. Rococo-style rifled muskets and muzzle-loaded artillery were not the most efficient weapons, and they were reliant on at least above average understanding of physics and military history for Mami to have used them so effectively. But again, soldiers were people of authority and discipline, and Mami was pretty powerless beyond being a respected, but often aloof and to Homura, misleading and irresponsible senior. Soldiers do not lure people down a path of magical self-destruction together just because their baby girl ran off to Kazamino or god-knows-where._

_Homura was different. She could stand field conditions, awful food, shelter and all. She does her research on potential allies and adversaries, and she plans her actions before everything. She takes stock of supplies, and she reserves her moments of weakness to the best of her ability. She was a soldier, through and through. And that was why, sitting through the endless lectures meant to "build up her operational aptitude", severely irritated her._

"… _Correct, Tomoe. Magical Girl squad tactics are force-multiplying tools, just like weapons or communication devices. While good squad dynamics can greatly reduce instability within individual members as well as enhance the rate of MG survival, they require much more than simple team-building to adequately achieve a combat objective---- Akemi-san? Your Soul Gem darkened a bit again. Are you sure you don't need a_ DS _or a break?"_

_She regretted signing up for Department 17. Fuck the head-over-heels in-love teenager inside her. Fuck hormones. Fuck this time line. Fuck everything._

* * *

16th March, 2037, 0016 A. M. Standard Japan Time

Near lukewarm ration tins sporting half of their original contents, rested a tablet computer and an assorted array of electronics tools. Tinkering with pipe bombs educated Homura on the necessary skills of basic electronic engineering, and compromising the integrity of said tablet as little as possible, she switched it off and checked its components for bugging devices. Meticulously placing all fragile and delicate parts aside, she assessed the motherboard.

That meant concentrating all the lights, scouring whatever electronic jammers she could find (not that there were many to begin with) and making any ad-hoc sensors with what parts she could locate in her toolbox, secured inside her buckler. At least she didn't tuck it away under the Type 88 TEL; that would be far greater trouble just for a glorified piece of glass. With a few alcoholic swabs, a pair of latex gloves and a microfibre cleaning cloth, she set to check the Tablet out.

Strangely, as Homura tinkered with the motherboard, there wasn't even a Wi-Fi receiver antenna, and its CPU chip did not match what typical tablets would have used. In fact, the "Tablet" was more of an electronic touch-screen with a stylus-signing function, and even that was slightly sluggish, though Homura made sure she had put everything back into order. It could be a loose screw, or it could be a cheap, government-procured tablet from some crappy third-rate supplier. Homura had seen worse. The sanitation may be unnecessary, but at least it proved the Spooks, as Homura named them, did not rely on electronics to spy on her.

No matter. She had far more problematic things to consider.

If Homura was at least in physical need of replenishment in spite of a lacking appetite some moments ago, she had totally none now. Putting the rations into a lunchbox sitting in a fridge as tomorrow's lunch and recycling the tins by dumping them unceremoniously into an assorted bin, she turned the Tablet on again and read the electronic piece of document, considering its implications as she did so. Headed by the words

" **東アジア連合公安調査庁** **17** **部** **/EAASO Department 17** "

and a five-petal flower-looking insignia, the terms and conditions presented themselves precisely yet in head-splitting complexity. Thankfully, reading excessively detailed legal documents on a Friday night meant she only needed a bit of extra sleep.

She might not even need to leach out all the pollution on her Seed until next week too, if the details were not _that_ troubling.

* * *

That was one big jinx.

Those aren't just Spooks; they're a bunch of bureaucrats who happen to have way too much RAM space, keyboards, time and a magical espionage apparatus at their disposal. It took up half of the first page just to define what it meant by "Magical Girls" and "Employment", as if they were trying very hard to skirt between labour laws of the combined EAA states.

But that was just the beginning. Then came the details of what the proposition of Homura being employed as a Spook "Regional Liaison" in Mitakihara incurred, and Jesus Christ if the tasks could not be laid out more complex enough. Acting as middle management for Department 17, she had to provide bi-daily reports on the local Magical Girls' physical and mental status, and she had to regularly check on local Magical Girls, to ensure team dynamics were not dysfunctional and result in infights as well as accelerated "Grief Accumulation", assuming they already have a team. If there was not, the Regional Liaison in question would have to form one, and ensure the contractors survive throughout their career, by recruiting the Magical Girls under her leadership into the Department.

The recruitment bit was expected, but "Throughout their career"? Homura wrote that down on a notebook and continued reading. Her Soul Gem gleamed, indicating a Witch was nearby, and experience told her one was, indeed at the south-end Industrial District, typically around 2:07 AM, but Mami could have it tonight. By past timeline experiences, Mami, typically patrolling on weekday nights, would certainly live through tonight, Witch or no Witch. She carried on, scrolling the contents very slowly and carefully.

(Homura flinched at how distinctly specific the Spooks were concerning the reports: "For ease of facilitating general and specific Magical Girl Support, Direct Intervention and Training, you are required to format your reports, or fill in your reports using copies of Documents 17RLF-BDR-MGS[P/M](I) and 17RLF-BDR-MGS[P/M](T) as provided on page 9 of Appendix F under file "Documentation Samples"".)

The quickly-accumulating frustration inside her was so great that Homura found it necessary to keep her magical use at a minimum, lest she wore her grief tolerances out on such a frivolous reason. Reading was something Homura excelled with a bad heart; she could handle it with a little less magic. For now, the supplies in her fridge would have to make do.

Setting her Gem in a secure box without the risk of it falling or sliding away, Homura made herself a cup of instant Matcha to go with some half-heartedly heated flash-frozen red date cakes (no, they are not pink and _soft_ and **_fragrant_** and pleasant, they are only meant to quickly replenish energy). It was a strange combination, but she needed whatever she could scour from her fridge to maintain a tolerable blood sugar level if she wanted to even comprehend the document in its entirety. While there were even more documents at the back appended for the purpose of easing comprehension, Homura did not trust simplifications. Too often did simplifications create misunderstandings and therefore, exploitable gaps.

The Regional Liaison was also responsible to at least, ensure local Magical Girls were aware of Department 17's offer of guardianship, training, and other kinds of support, such as scholarships, living arrangements and so on. While there would be no consequences if they denied, Regional Liaisons had to report back immediately once requests were made, so Department Agents could follow up on the matter. Again, there were dedicated forms for that, but Homura couldn't be bothered to read them. And yes, Regional Liaisons had to recruit Magical Girls to join Department 17, if they showed interest in whatever capacity or employ that was publicly on offer, at least amongst Magical Girls. Again, reports had to be made in haste at that.

Additionally, if they founded a team, Regional Liaisons had to train any MGs under their leadership up to standards as provided by the Department 17 Magical Girl Curriculum, and the team had to maintain at least three safe houses, MG supply stashes as well as scouting prospective sites for Department 17 infrastructure. Since Magical Girl teams under Regional Liaisons were automatically recruited into the Spooks, they too would have to be trained by the Department itself, so the Regional Liaison teams would have an optimal team structure and clear teamwork delegation, not unlike that of an infantry squad.

Department 17 infrastructure; another question. Homura marked it down to see if any information could be found later. Outside a car backfired; past timeline experience told her now would be around 4:49 AM.

Concerning problems about power or resource abuse on part of the Regional Liaisons, the Tablet did not provide clear information, but Homura could only imagine the Spooks had their way of dealing with such. The bureaucracy asides, if they were half the bureaucratic machine they projected themselves to be, their internal surveillance against corruption and disobedience was good enough to maintain the machine running, particularly if they had managed to keep their authority over Magical Girls, essentially groups of one-girl armies, too impractical to be contained simply by conventional force.

Whether Regional Liaisons took up team leadership, they had to maintain non-hostile relations between Department 17 and local MG teams, regardless of whether MGs desire the Spooks' protection and supply. They also had to arbitrate local MG disputes, and if things went south, they were to call on Direct Intervention from Department 17. In combat, Regional Liaisons were expected to lead their team, or follow their fellow team members and advise their leader, as well as calling for emergency support if the situation demanded it.

Carrot and stick. So that's how it worked, huh. But this "Regional Liaison", or rather, "Middleman" thing was taking up too much of her comprehension from all the legal gibberish, and Homura was getting annoyed, and physically uncomfortable.

Homura started to feel dizzy. In her focus to finish reading the document, Homura forgot that minimising magic use meant she could not be constantly awake, and it was only when she felt she was about to vomit did she realised her error.

Quick rush, second door on the left, open open just fucking open! Toilet lid out, out out out out out of the way-

"Bleurgh!"

Rinsing her mouth, Homura knew she had to tune the magic back up. A rather strange use indeed, but accommodations had to be made when you're trying to simultaneously save the girl of your dreams and the world with what frail physical condition you have. Slightly struggling against the persistent fatigue, she commanded her Soul Gem to appear on her palm, and took an emergency magic boost as she sat down on the sofa. The Spooks will just have to charge their damn gadget when they get it back.

The need to deter against possible Spook attacks meant Homura could not use magic lightly, and after a brief boost to at least ensure she would not simply keel over and suffer heart attack from sleep deprivation, Homura made the hard choice of napping for 30 minutes. Military research recommended moderate naps for irregular time-cycle and high stress environments, and that was what Homura went with, as she set down a cheap Swedish-brand Chinese-made alarm clock, poised to wake her up at 5:45 am.

* * *

"Akemi?"

Hm?

"Akemi? _Hsiao..._?"

Someone, something, _anything_ was calling. Whom? She didn't feel like opening her eyes, but she had to.

" _Heng ge, yao…_ DI _ma?_ "

The voice didn't feel right. Zhang?

" _Deng deng…_ Akemi-san, can you open your eyes?"

_Zhang?_

_Spooks_?

**_Spooks._ **

Akemi Homura didn't even bother to put up resistance this time: It was far more efficient to verify what she read from their mouths, after she built an ongoing conversation.

"I'm awake, Mr. Zhang." Zhang the Spook apparently realised the importance of water for someone who just slept with their mouths open, and mechanically produced a field canteen. "Water, Miss Akemi?" A quick peek at the IDEA clock told her she overslept.

She overslept by _too much._

Mouthing a silent thanks, Homura gave the aluminum container a quick sniff (Familiar scent. Did she and the Spooks swipe stuff from the same JSDF base?), and sipped gently. Meanwhile, Zhang's lady friend decided to speak up. The tentativeness in her tone was so evident it was almost paining, even if Homura could not understand her language, given how she had looped the same timeline for ten years instead of progressing through the standard East Asian secondary school curriculum.

" _Heng ge, ta de lingjing tai hei le ba…_ " Lackey Spook (Hsiao Kan- no, Hsiao Han) frowned and looked at… Homura followed her sight-

"Mr. Zhang, why is my Soul Gem inside this container?" In all other cases, she would have started shooting, but this was unprecedented in hundreds of timelines. This demanded some unconventional approach. Like placing questions in front of bullets. After all, Homura's Soul Gem, placed inside a plastic pillbox would probably matter slightly more over whatever doubts, or threat assessments she had immediately in mind.

"Your Gem was haphazardly placed at the table edge; not the best thing to let it fall off when we found you after knocking on the door for the fourth time." He offered her the clear plastic package to her, whilst handing the JSDF canteen back to Hsiao Han. "Xiao Han took the liberty to secure it for you. It's the second time she's been this far out from Xiong'an, you know."

Chinese and their not-so-subtle ways of demanding at least a thank-you. Homura sniffed beneath her breath as she took her soul back with her hands. "I suppose I should thank you then." Bowing slightly from her sitting position on her sofa, Homura wondered if Lackey Spo- Hsiao Han understood the hinted mockery behind.

"Normally," Zhang took a sip from a far smaller hip flask. "we would be way more lenient with the timing, since RLs are rather coveted positions reserved for experienced and capable personalities," another sip. "but this time is different, and I'm sure you know why. We need all hands on deck because of…"

Homura had a faint idea that they turned to her only because of some final-minute event stopped them from recruiting Mami, though she would die only the day after tomorrow. Questions were stacking by the second.

"Walpurgisnacht." They finished together, and again, if Zhang was irritated, he did not show it in the least. "We're not sure how it works, but knowing you are not from our timeline, and that by all logistical and information traces you left behind, you are obviously acquainted with this event. One might even hazard you have had some prior experience."

She's definitely calling them Spooks, and she's definitely ordering that VPN service she saw a few days ago. While her breach proves their intelligence capability (and God knows how they knew about her out-of-timelineness), what gives if they really have what it takes to finish Walpurgisnacht?

"I know it's too much to ask of a typical teenager to play Sarge for a group of teenagers playing Privates and Corporals, but since the day you contracted, your life is almost predestined, and for all the pressure I might place on you, that's exactly what we help MGs to escape from." He sighed and handed a tiny earpiece to Homura, motioning to Hsiao Han. "Third-gen translation unit, standard issue; helps with the comms. Xiao Han can explain it to you far better than I ever hope to be."

" _Wo chooju ba_ \- perimeter," Homura moved the earpiece slightly to make sure it fit. It did snugly. "It's quarter past nine. We should move in 5, tops."

" 'Sir." Hsiao Han turned and faced Homura, a distinct Northern Chinese set of facial features unmistakable, though her skin showed a healthier glow than Homura's. At least now they're actually talking; judging by how Hsiao Han reacted back then in the interrogation room, it could not have been her first time being pointed by a pistol muzzle.

"Normally I would have let you get used to how my mouth and my speech doesn't fit," Hsiao Han rattled off in a calm, yet terse tone. "but we do not have enough time. If we really want to take out Walpurgisnacht by its arrival, or 30th of April, we only have 45 days to prepare. We have already shortened the RL course so you won't waste time on the non-essentials, but you still have to pick your local team, equipment and train together. Since you'll be more of a forward control officer over a CO _per se_ , you won't always need to directly lead your own team, but do remember you are still essentially an officer over those you command."

So they're saddling her with what was essentially middle management already, without really taking into account whether Homura wanted it in the first place? "I didn't say if I wanted the job."

"We know you want to save someone- Kaname Madoka in fact," earning a harsh glare from Homura, Hsiao Han continued regardless. "even though we don't know why or how it came to be, and we also know that you are proficient enough at your powers to dare to at least prepare to take on Walpurgisnacht." She sipped from her JSDF canteen, as a gesture. "After all, no one would be really interested in surplus ASMs or Buddies and mortars for no reason."

If they knew everything about what she did, why would the Spooks want her? True, in some of the more successful loops, Homura was able to get quick glimpses of Walpurgisnacht's weak points, but surely the Spooks…

_Ah._

"I can see why it's a deal, Miss…." Homura gestured to her interlocutor. "My surname is Mei."

"Miss Mei," continued Homura. "we are talking about quite an issue of trust here. At this point your knowledge of me should be quite enough, but I can tell you one thing." Sipping what was left of her Matcha, now cold and bitter, she carried on. "MG Teams fall apart too quickly due to all sorts of reasons, and that is why I never trust them."

_And that's why I don't trust you Spooks._

"We don't use and dump MGs, Miss Akemi. MGs may be better than humans in some regards, but we are only Human in the end."

_Do you seriously think we'd treat you like some one-off informant in our coming war?_

"Your resources are more than enough to span the entire Asian continent, you already have some knowledge about Walpurgisnacht, and anyone could guess you people are about to wage a campaign against her. Why me?"

_Come on, say it. Admit why you want to recruit me._

Subtle as it may be, Mei sensed this was a struggle to gain the upper hand in the pursuit for autonomy versus obedience. She could understand; it's not everyday when some powerful security apparatus knocks on your door and decides to recruit you.

"Maybe-"

At some point, Zhang came back into the apartment. "Access to our equipment, service and manpower. In return, you will act as a forward control officer for our MG teams in our coming Walpurgisnacht campaign, and we can take out Walpurgisnacht together. After these 45 days, you can consider if you want to take up the job in the long run." For all intricacies Zhang might have, he knew what Homura worried about, and time, precious time, was of essence right now. Petty struggles for autonomy could be left later when they drafted her provisional Commission Letter.

"Test in fire, hm?" Homura stood up, in front of a more or less speechless Hsiao Han. In a deal, nothing was one-sided. They can test all they want, but they'll expect Homura to do the same. A dress rehearsal, then. Homura shrugged. "Tour of your facility, and answer all of my questions- and I mean by informing truths, not Incubator bullshit. Do that, and you may have a deal."

Hsiao Han looked at her boss. Agent Zhang's slight nod gave all the permission Mei needed.

"After you, Akemi-san."

* * *

Mei Ao Han might be exhausted, and she might have fluked a simple offer persuasion were it not for her Big Bro, but this was a breeze compared to examination periods. It would be tedious, but knowing she could make a trip back and forth the span of Asia in a few real-life seconds, teleporting between Mitakihara and Fukuoka, cities separated only by Hakata Bay, was no great trouble, with two passengers on her metaphorical back. Time to be professional.

"Sir, the Links... Miss Xiaomei, this links you to my magic. Wear it like Agent Zhang does, and I will be able to take us back." Producing two dark grey silicone wristbands like wristwatches, the artificial remote magic-conductive crystals showed a bright flash of electric blue as she briefly touched the Links' crystals with the silver service tip of her Gem Shell. "I'm sorry to say these surplus models are what we have right now," she mentioned as she handed the sires of engineering and magic to an intrigued Homura and Zhang, who fluently adjusted the straps to his right wrist. "but we'll get better toys back there. Or at least we're told so before we came this morning."

While Homura's file was quickly deleted after she committed its contents to mind, Mei could not understand Akemi Homura's severe resistance against an organisation that would take MGs away from the harm of the MG life cycle. Organisational power and discipline effectively wiped out the possibility of factional or intra-factional fights among MGs, while engineering and technological advances shielded MGs from the threat of Seed scarcity, or the possibility of turning into Witches, leaving only carcasses to be leeched upon altogether. It might be too good to be true, but surely Homura only had to see it for herself to believe it?

"Just a flash and we would be there. Miss Xiaomei... and Agent Zhang?" With their nods, she summoned her magic, transforming into her usual naval blue secretary wear. A blazer jacket sporting subtle Xiangyun patterns covered a buttoned-neck cream-white shirt, tied with a matching red knot in front, and a knee-length black pencil skirt along with business leggings and flat-ankled shoes formed her MG uniform. In a brief flash of blue light, the three figures ceased to exist in Akemi Homura's Old District apartment. What greeted them, was a room all too familiar to Akemi Homura. For Zhang, he hoped this would end not too badly.

Mei simply followed protocol as the other sections could not be accessed by non-associated personnel, of which Akemi Homura, not being a part of the EAASO Departments 15 through 17, could not be afforded to see. The meeting room was thus, the best choice for them to be in for now.

"Welcome to Theatre HQ Kyushu. I suppose you want your questions to be answered first, Miss _Xiaomei Yan_?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my, Homuhomu gets plunged into the painful world of bureaucracy, and this is just beginning.
> 
> I added in the date and time, since I will occasionally jump in between the events. Yes, this is meant to be a Bildungsroman where Homuhomu actually develops her character with help and troubles and all that stuff, but I'm impatient. I want to be able to see for myself how does she grow up. While I initially thought this was too quick, I realised Homura has effectively 45 days before Walpurgisnacht attacks. There is nothing as "too quick", but rather, too slow. I will admit one challenge in writing QoW to be, how should I pace the story?
> 
> I'm slightly surprised by how there are still people active in this fandom; I hope this fanfic won't do this great premise and community a disservice. Shoutout to those who favourited, followed and reviewed! Keep it coming! Please, do review and comment; have I fluked up? Do you find the story to be too quick? Do let me know!
> 
> Dictionary:  
> Hsiao Han / Xiao Han: 小寒  
> Mei Ao Han: 梅傲寒, Xiao Han's full name in Pinyin, her name being a wordplay based on a Chinese literal trope of plum blossoms in harsh winter cold  
> Xiaomei Yan: 曉美焰, or Akemi Homura in Pinyin  
> Heng ge, yao... DI ma?=Bro Heng, do... DI?: 恆哥，要...DI嗎？  
> Deng deng=wait: 等等  
> Heng ge, ta de lingjing tai hei le ba= Bro Heng, her Soul Gem's too dark=恆哥，她的靈晶太黑了吧  
> Wo Chooju Ba... [feng]=Wo Chuqu Bafeng=I'll patrol outside: 我出去把風  
> Xiong'an=雄安, a developing Chinese city as of 2021 (and developed by 2037 in QoW canon) bearing "non-essential" functions of Beijing and a new urban planning project based on environmental and smart governance principles  
> Xiangyun=Iridiscent Clouds: 祥雲, a Chinese artistic pattern of clouds implying auspice, or the Son of Heaven's aura  
> Buddies / Buddy: Nickname for Howa Type 89 assault rifles in JSDF

**Author's Note:**

> Since East Asian phonetics create too much complications, I'll just leave the characters here for readers' reference if you're interested:  
> Haneda Kaoko: 羽田馨風/はねだ かおこ  
> Zhang Weiheng: 張衛恆/张卫恒  
> Xiao Han: 小寒  
> East Asian Administration: 東亞聯合組織/东亚联合组织/東アジア連合/동아시아 공동기구；EAA/亞聯/亚联/ア連/아시아 연합  
> East Asian Administration Security Organisation: 東亞聯合組織安全部/东亚联合组织安全部/東アジア連合公安調査庁/동아시아 공동기구보안부;EAASO/SO/安全部/公安/보안  
> Please do review and comment! I'm looking forward to see how this story goes.


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